Síla in Twilight
by Arwen Lune
Summary: Elrond, having a quiet moment before the storm begins.


  
  
  
  
**

Síla in Twilight  


**  


síla- v. _to shine white_ (Sindarin)  


  
  
  
  
  
  
Elrond smiled at the cat that curled around his ankles. He took one of the numerous decorated bookmarks from a drawer and delicately placed it between the pages of the volume he was reading, then closed it and put it aside.   
  
Very well, Síla, you may sit on my lap now, he spoke to the animal, meanwhile putting a square of old blanket on his lap. The cat waited patiently until it was lifted off the ground.   
  
The cat was white, a rare quality among the cats that populated Rivendell. Most were wild-colour; tabby and all its variations. They had rich manes and bushy tails, suited to a race that lived in the wild near to the Misty Mountains.   
  
Síla turned around a few times and then settled down on legs of the Lord of Rivendell. Elrond stroked it fondly. Its coat was no longer so shiny, and its body not as lithely muscled as it once was. But Síla had been a beloved companion for over twenty years now, and Elrond was more than fond of the animal.   
  
I apologise, dear Síla. I did not intend to ignore you, he told it in a gentle voice, there are so many books to work through, I really should enlist some more members of the household  
  
The cat rubbed its cheek against the half-elvens' long fingers.   
  
But they are busy, and I am not even certain what I am looking for I just know that I'll recognize it when I see it, he murmured, and the cat purred softly.   
  
Elrond ran his fingers over the aging body of the cat, caressing and examining.   
You are losing a little weight, dear heart. Shall I ask the kitchen to save some nice leftovers for you? he spoke to it. As if understanding, the cat purred a little louder.   
  
Most of the cats in Rivendell fended for themselves, and relied on their good reputation with the kitchen staff. Glorfindel had taken up the task to make sure all of the cats were well, but Elrond concerned himself with Síla.   
  
He arranged that the cat got three good meals a day, and even then it lost weight. But he had made certain it was in no pain, and in the end it was inevitable that it would die. That thought made the half-elven sad. It was the risk of bonding with mortal beings, and he had always known that. He had always made a point of not getting overly attached to his horses, knowing that they would not stay with him for long.   
  
But when one day, almost twenty-two years ago, a small white kitten had wandered into the twilit library, mewing pitifully, his heart had gone out to the small animal. He had called out to the little ball of fluff, following its movements easily as its white fur stood out against the dark library.   
  
he had named it, come here little one, and the kitten had, very hesitantly, come into the circle of candlelight. It then sat down, as if shocked by its own courage.  
  
Elrond had smiled and put his quill aside. When he reached out, the kitten shied away a little, but soon dared to approach the offered fingers.   
Have you lost sight of your mother? he spoke softly. The kitten looked to be about seven weeks old; the stage where they were old enough to wander away from their mother, but still young enough to cry for her when they suddenly realised she was out of sight.   
  
It approached on tiptoe, ready to shy away, but Elrond sat still, and the kitten gained courage. Soon it was exploring the folds of the half-elvens' robes.   
  
You are a special little creature, are you not? he had said, picking up the animal. We don't see many white cats here.  
  
Short white hairs were already settling into the velvet of his long robe, but that was of later concern. The kitten wriggled about for a moment, and then settled down comfortably in Elronds' lap.   
He smiled fondly and picked up his quill again.   
  
Somehow the thoughts in his head found their way into words on paper much quicker than he has expected, and before long he put the quill back in the inkstand and laid the paper aside to dry.   
  
Now, shall we go to find your mother? he spoke to the kitten, and then found it had quite peacefully gone to sleep, its nose resting comfortably on the tip of its bushy tail.   
  
He had cradled it gently and walked out of the library, and delivered it back to its mother and its brothers and sisters. With a slight tug of regret, he had watched the kitten stretch out comfortably and then curl up for more sleep.  
  
But the next day it had come back to the library, and it had done so all the days since then. And now it was old, and it not longer played along the bookshelves but simply lay in his lap, aiding his concentration with its gentle purring.   
  
Elrond sat back and caressed the elderly animal with languorous strokes. Its purring went steadily up in volume.   
'Celebrian would have loved you also, dear heart,' he thought sadly, 'when you depart from this world, be sure to bring my love to her'  
  
The cat blinked up at the Lord of Rivendell, its eyes full of trust and peace.   
  
'Your departure will be too soon, just like hers... he sighed.   
  
After a long moment he looked up, prompted by a change in the light, and found his daughter standing in the doorway, Anwar behind her.   
  
Ah! Research reinforcements! the half-elven exclaimed, carefully settling the cat down on its pillow near the fire, This is an unexpected delight.   
  
He beckoned the visitors further into the library. At that moment, Bilbo Baggins and Erestor came into view, the elf staying his pace to match the hobbits' faltering steps.  
  
—feel obligated to help, the tall elf argued gently.  
  
To find Frodo's cure, I would work through all the books in this library on my own if needs be, Bilbo said firmly, and both Erestor and Elrond smiled at his determination.   
  
Please, do come in, he invited, and soon four elves and one hobbit were sitting around an enormous table. Many books were stacked in the middle.  
  
Arwen took the first book that came to hand and looked at its title.   
Exactly what are we looking for, father? she asked, her finger gliding along the index of the volume.  
  
Anything, anything at _all_, that has to do with nazgûl related injuries. If you find something, just put in a bookmark and put it aside. I will be working through that stack.  
  
The elves nodded silently, and Bilbo rubbed his hands.  
  
Right! Could you hand me that book there? he said, pointing at a volume thicker than the length of his own forearm. It was one of a set of seven.   
'_Herbs of Eregion_' looks like a promising one.   
  
The company smiled grimly and began to work their way through the stack of books.   
  
By the fire, Síla purred quietly.  
  
  
  
  
  


END  


  
  
  
  
Notes:  
1] I imagine that the cats native to Rivendell are somewhat like Norwegian Forest cats. Síla was described to that image.   
2] This story assumes that cats share the same fate as elves: when they die they go to the Halls of Mandos, from where they will be released into the Undying Lands. Sure, I made that up, but I just can't imagine Valinor _not _being a cat-ridden city. grin  
3] This was going to be a little comic vignette (evolving around the rather obvious gag of Elrond + white cat + unexpected visitors), but it turned into a rather melancholic little story I hope you enjoyed. Whether or not you did, I'd like a review either way  
  
  
  


Cheers,  
Arwen Lune  



End file.
